Relapse
by xheartmehorrid
Summary: A small collection of AU semi drabbles oneshots and shortfics with no real point but multiple mxm mxf AND fxf pairings and a love octagon.
1. Ep 1: Intro Check

Relapse

A collection of AU "S-CRY-ED" oneshots drabbles and shortfics with no real point but multiple pairings.

Disclaim

I own nothing but the words I write.

Notice

YES there will be mxm relationships.

YES there will be fxf relationships.

YES there will be mxf relationships.

YES there will be sex-talk.

YES there will be bad language.

YES there will be an octagon of overlapping pairings.

YES there will be incest and minor pedophilia and minor violence and non-con.

You've been warned.


	2. Ep 2: Fake David Bowie Song

**Relapse **Part One Fake David Bowie Song

**Disclaim** Check the front page.

* * *

Rolling together on the blue-haired almost-too-cute-to-be-jailbait teen girl's bed, Cherise smelling like baby powder and raw cookie dough and Cammie, Cammie Lane of the uncertain-of-his-preference boyfriend and long brown hair in two loose southern braids, the older of the two ruffled the cropped head of aquamarine-blue hair, smiling and giggling. "_You dirty little thing_!" The two sang out in unison, chuckling and romping around and messing up all the covers to Liam Lynch on Cherise's portable stereo. "_Eclipse me_!"

Cherise flipped the taller girl over on her back, counting the freckles that spotted the bridge of her nose and tugging on the too-short too-tight pink pajama top that she had let her borrow, as a friend, so that she swore she saw Tachibana's _ex_-girlfriend blush, then laugh, pulling her down with the sweetest look she thought she'd ever seen.

"_In cryogenic sleep_. . ."

Cherise just giggled and snuggled up to her flat belly, tucking her head under the older girl's chin. Cammie laid one arm across her back, smiling and craning her neck to get a better look at her close-best friend's face, her powder blue eyes that weren't so uncommon anyway and actually were kind of the same color as her chop-cut hair, which was different, kind of.

And that was more than _he_ had ever done.

"_Oh Lord, I'm freezing. . ._"


	3. Ep 3: Need

**Relapse** Part Two Need

**Disclaim** You know.

* * *

"You're so predictable," he sneers, gusting breath like alcohol and cigarettes into the small, quaking little teenager's face, his hand down the other boy's skintight leather pants. Looking like they could've been painted on. Looking so scared, big doe eyes flashing with fireworks and need. Because he wanted it bad. And because he didn't want it at all.

Pressed up against the bathroom stall, Asuka Tachibana's breath shivered and shimmered, and he almost cried with the desire.

The somewhat older male shoved his tongue inside the pretty mouth, loving on him furiously before they both were panting and gasping for air and sex and he realized who it was that he was all over, his heart like a bonfire burning up his loins, that this kid had a girlfriend, and that, looking into those big blithe eyes, it was almost painfully clear that

This was all that Asuka Tachibana had ever wanted from him.

"Jesus, kid," he panted, grinning against the other's parted lips. "You almost look like you love me."

It was all the fifteen-year-old could do to keep from bursting into tears. Aching for this thing he wanted, more than he had ever wanted in his entire life, he thought

_Would it be so bad if I did?_


	4. Ep 4: Tarot

Like chow mein, she smelled, and boy's soap in her greasy hair, on her perfect skin. In the background, Cammie danced around like something from the 80's, having borrowed Cherise's clothes. And also in the background, the music went something like "uh-huh, yeah-hey," or "ah-ha, sha-hake", because it was Kimishima's music and Kazuma liked them too.

Cammie, smiling like the sun and weaving circles in the living room with her arms up high and wiggling her hips. Cherise flipped another tarot card onto its back. It was the magician. Tachibana peered in closely over her shoulder; all violet hair and big, blithe eyes. And he didn't know what the magician meant, but he would have liked to have been the magician.

Behind him, there was a smell like smoke from cigarettes, raising the hairs on his neck to stand up.

Then, Tachibana knew that Kazuma was something like swords, far from the magician, or even the desire to be the magician. And Cammie spun circles in her 80's clothes and long brown hair, and Cherise flipped over the second card. Nine of swords.

Would he like to be the nine of swords?


	5. Ep 5: Unrequited Crush

**Relapse** Part Five Unrequited Crush

**Disclaim** Really.

* * *

He approached the man in the dark and dim of the hall. His lips, the man's, were dark and red with wine, his forced, unhappy smile splitting glowing cheekbones. Gold, gold, gold, like ornament. "It hurts me," he said, lustily, "That you don't love." The hiss of red material on white clothes. Gold-flushed skin like a pale, bronze statue, with oceanic hair. ". . .Me," he added, and oh, the cold look on Ryuhou's face!

"Emergy, what are you here for?"

There was a stiffness in his tone that Emergy knew well. He allowed a small smile, smoothing the sleeves of his undershirt before _almost_ coyly draping one arm across the other's shoulders.

"Why, I'm here to protect you. What, with our rooms just down the hall from each other, why not? Just think of me as your armor. A shield for the night, if you will."

At that, Ryuhou's shoulders visibly tensed. The amorous, thick-lipped young man would have gladly liked to loosen those stiff muscles for him. He almost quivered at the idea.

"Emergy, I am perfectly capable of defending myself without your assistance. Go back to your assigned quarters and get some sleep."

The other gave a full, sulky pout that Ryuhou found altogether terribly unattractive, and reluctantly shrugged himself off of the green-haired pretty-boy's chest. "Well," he sighed, "if you insist. Goodnight and sweet dreams." Waving his hand, he trotted off down the hall like an over-zealous schoolgirl in the fog of some major crush.

"I'll see _you_ in the morning!"

Ryuhou's stomach was a knot of revulsion.


	6. Ep 6: Dulce De Leche

1. **DULCE DE LECHE**  
Double the milk.

Big sunglasses and bubblegum lips. That was Cherise Adjani.

You never knew if she was fifteen or eighteen, woman or girl. She liked girl. She _preferred_ girl. Nubile goddess. Seductive innocence. Cherise Adjani was the prettiest deception of them all.

Chewing on her fingernails, she sprawls sleek legs and blows a puff of air from between pursed pink lips.

Thick lashes lowered over big baby blues from behind the coverage of overlarge shades, mouth glistening. Then comes the bored or slightly disappointed sigh.

_Ryuhou_, she wonders. _Where are you?_


	7. Ep 7: Thank You Card

2. **THANK-YOU card**  
Eternal gratitude.

Her heart is plastic. Her smile is plastic.

This morning she snuck into his room and left a THANK-YOU card on the nightstand next to his bed. It's so close to I LOVE YOU. She doesn't even care that he doesn't like glam rock or David Bowie or that he thinks she still looks like a child- despite her impressive feminine endowments- and drinks his coffee black when she likes hers with cream. She loves this. These things about him.

" . . . It's a part of you that I believe in. It's a part of you that I love."

_Thank You_. For letting me love.


	8. Ep 8: Sweetest

3. **SWEETEST**  
The feeling. It's there inside. Please believe me.

Kanami curls up into her nightgown and flexes her fingers. Her smile is blithe and warm. Contented for now. Kazuma is careful as he breathes beneath the slight pressure of all 98 pounds. The little girl sleeping on his chest and murmuring often through her dreaming the name that she created for him. Kazu-kun. Her lasting term of endearment.

She tells him that he's virtuous and good inside, that he just doesn't realize now. She thinks he will soon. He thinks she's wrong.

But it's the sweetest kind of wrong.

* * *

A/N: My first drabble to be a perfect 100 words! Much celebration. 


	9. Ep 9: Mary Jane

4. **MARY JANE**  
When the music's all that's keeping me alive.

Feathered blonde hair frames impressive cleavage and the front of her blouse. Big red lips curl upward into a harlequin's manic grin. She is the dressed down and sexed up rock n' roll star of her dreams as she sits on the hood of T.T.'s car and listens to the familiar static of her radio.

Knowledge. Innocence. It gets one nowhere in this life. She appreciates this. Her bustline screams her desire to be perceived as a woman of great sex and seduction. Like two thumbs pressed together through the loose contours of her overlarge shirt and the mile of leg being flashed in all directions. She smokes a cigarette and pretends she looks glamorous instead of just cheap.

Martin sits slumped against the front left wheel. Not the perhaps corrupt business man the late COMMANDER Martin- the mask of Martin- but the beautiful blonde Martin with the rose between his lips. Zigmar is more beautiful than she is. Not that there's room to be insecure.

"Mary." He turns his effeminate little head to glance in her direction. "You know I hate this song. Turn it to something else."

She takes an elongated drag. She fucking loves this song.

" . . .Just call me Jane." A toothy kind of smile stretches velvet red lips.  
"I'm hardly the blessed virgin."

He snorts and makes a disdainful sort of face, unamused. She only grins.

Mary Jane does not know the meaning of the word "stop". And the music never will.

* * *

A/N: Mary Jane, the "blonde" Martin Zigmar and T.T. are all characters featured in the manga. 


	10. Ep 10: Hero Worship

5. **Hero Worship**  
With one leg in the freezer you'll never be cool.

The lazy cigarette smoke of comrades passes between them. Both lean over the railing.

Kazuma shifts under his jacket, breaking the companionable silence.

"Cougar?"

"Yeah, kid?"

An easy grin breaks over canine lips. "You're a pretty cool cat."

A chuckle. Cougar blows a stream of smoke and half-turns to face his surrogate little brother.

"Kazuma?"

"Yeah?"

He places a larger hand on the tousled head of auburn and gold, grinning. "I'm your hero."

. . .Well damn.


	11. Ep 11: Superior Pressure

6. **SUPERIOR PRESSURE**  
The dirty well-kept secret.

_Is that why you got close to my mother? You were trying to slither your way into my life._

Large hands grip tensed shoulders with a sense of possessive demanding. Manicured fingernails dig deep into the sleeves but never reach the skin. The superlative sparkle of the Adonis's eyes dims with lust behind long and effeminate lashes, drawing angered tears from those in narrowed demon red. It shows in the lesser rank's delicate face his inner struggle with self-pride and the respect for his superiors ingrained so deep in him that he can almost taste the lost will to rebel. It is an ongoing battle with one side going down before the first even wears out its ammo.

_Hey Ryuhou. . .did you know I've been keeping an eye on you since you were born?_

Fingertips move down along the defined forearms before the older of the two jerks the other body forward, close to his own, white teeth big and glinting in a victorious grin. Absolute ownership belongs to him and no one else.

_How do you plead, you son of a bitch?_

Rosebud lips brush the bristling pale skin, waves of angelic blonde falling across both of their shoulders and Ryuhou's collarbone. He would take his red-eyed creation when he could no longer suffer the resistance of refrain. Now . . . No, not now. Soon, he promises with each and every meticulous touch.

_Ryuhou . . . you always know what to say to make me happy._

"I should be getting back now, sir. Cherise is expecting me." A repulsed twitch curls the corner of his mouth. Just looking at that man. . . "I can only be gone for so long before the last minute excuses become irrelevant, and unconvincing."

_This man has wrecked my life._

He covers up his disappointment with a smile. "We'll be seeing each other again soon, I hope." Strong hands release their agitated prisoner. It will be the next time.

A grudgingly respectful nod before he turns. " . . . I don't suppose I have much of a choice in the matter."

_. . . I expected nothing less from you._

A wide grin splits thin, glistening lips, and he chuckles. "No. . .I don't suppose you do."

_You are mine. I paid for you._


End file.
